


Prologue: 1 September 1970

by Amata42



Series: Past Tense [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Marauders' Era, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:04:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amata42/pseuds/Amata42
Summary: Five very different boys cross paths as a new year begins at Hogwarts.





	1. Around Muggles

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own or make any profit off anything Harry Potter-related. If I did, I would be able to afford groceries.

Despite the fact that he knew that he could not help but look like a million Galleons, Sirius Black nervously fidgeted one more time in front of the mirror. His mind was full of questions, a million thoughts racing back and forth, and at least a hundred worries about how the day would turn out.   
  
Today was the day, September first. He'd been waiting hungrily for this day ever since mid-summer, when his very own Hogwarts letter had been delivered by owl during breakfast. How excited he had been, how happy and proud; his parents had even spared him a couple smiles! But now, standing as tall as his 11 year old frame could stretch, Sirius wasn't so sure of himself. What if the other witches and wizards were better than he was? What if they didn't like him and he made no friends? What if, at the end of the day, he wasn't sorted into Slytherin, as his parents expected of him? What if, good Merlin, what if he _was_?   
  
Downstairs, his mother was screeching loudly at the house elves. Sirius winced, even though he was very used to his mother's screeching by now. It was, after all, her favorite hobby. They would be leaving soon, to see Sirius off on the Hogwart's Express. The train station was really just a bit away, but they couldn't floo and they couldn't use brooms, so obviously it was going to take a bit longer to travel the distance than they were used to. They would, of course, have their Squib chauffer drive them So, Mother was probably screeching about her annoyance at having to be around _them_ … Around Muggles.   
  
Sirius repressed a small shiver of delight. It wouldn't do to be thinking about _them_ , not yet at least. Sirius knew better than to let his mind wander over such "expressly forbidden" topics as Muggles and Muggle-born witches and wizards. But, soon, he'd see some Muggles. And at Hogwarts… what if he _met_ a Muggle-born? He knew that his favorite cousin, Andromeda, who was going to be a fifth year at Hogwarts, knew Muggle-borns; Sirius had seen her at the Black family ball last Yule - she had told him secretly that some were her best friends. That's why she was his favorite cousin, because she let him keep such dangerous secrets as having _Muggle-born friends_. Sirius shivered again in anticipation, but the memory of all his worries about attending Hogwarts were stirred up again. His stomach clenched into knots, Sirius tugged nervously at his odd-looking Muggle disguise: black trousers and a simple blue shirt. He did feel rather strange without robes, somewhat naked. He wondered for a moment what Father and Mother must feel like… and then began wondering all over again about attending Hogwarts.   
  
His mother screeched again, this time demanding his presence. Time to go. Sirius took a deep breath and thought vaguely, _well…here I go._


	2. A Silly Git in a Towel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meet James Potter...

  
"Jaaaaaaaammmmes!"  
  
He groaned and pulled the pillow tighter over his ears. It was much too early.  
  
"Wotcher Jamie-boy!" His father's voice joined his mother's holler. "You going to get up and actually go to school today?" His father's voice was warm, suffused with pride and excitement for his son.  
  
But his mother -"Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaammmmmmees!" - was beginning to be annoying. It was September first. He was going to Hogwarts this year. They had to leave early to floo from their home in Godric's Hollow to the Leaky Cauldron, and then travel from there to the station where he would catch the Hogwart's Express. That's how his father and mother had done it when they had gone to Hogwarts. Except that his mum hadn't actually lived in Godric's Hollow- that was just his dad. But, honestly, how can they really expect an eleven year old boy to just jump out of his bed eagerly at some bloody time of the morning to go to _school_ … even if it _is_ the best school for wizards in the whole country…  
  
"JAMES BOWMAN POTTER! You get your lazy bum down here for breakfast, RIGHT NOW!" His mother's voice commanded. Ugh, she was using his full name. That meant he really had to get up and do as she said.  
  
"Coming Mum…" He groaned loudly down the stairs as he stumbled from his bedroom to the bath at the end of the hall. He could hear his father chuckling, and the sound of newspaper pages turning. _The Daily Prophet probably._ He could hear clicks and clunks from the kitchen. _Eggs and toast, probably._  
  
He felt much more awake after a shower. But stared at himself in the bathroom mirror for a long moment afterwards. He was skinny. Much too young to be somebody important. Hair much too messy to be cool. And, overall, he wasn't very impressive at anything in particular. He _did_ love to fly, but first-years weren't allowed broomsticks; there wasn't really any way to prove himself to the others.  
  
_Oh bollocks_ , he thought, _what if I don't make any friends? What if I fail all my courses? What if I get in trouble and they send me home?_ He winced at the thought of his Mum's reaction if he got in trouble for making….mischief.  
  
_I'll just have to not get caught,_ he amended with a determined grin. It was the grin that did it, really. He suddenly felt his muscles relax - not all the way- but a bit. He was still tense, and nervous, and excited, and anxious; but who wouldn't be, really? It was the first day of school, of _Hogwarts_. And he was still standing like a silly git in a towel making puddles on the floor.  
  
_Well_ , he thought, running his hands through his hair, _here I go…_


	3. All His Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus Lupin is aware of more than then adults think...

They sat nervously around the small kitchen table. Dad was more tense than usual, Mum was just flat out smothering. Usually breakfast was full of polite but warm chatter. Usually breakfast was followed by Dad leaving for work, and Mum setting about the house chores in the Muggle fashion. Usually breakfast was followed by another hellish day at the public Muggle school where he would be sure to get at least one hard shove, or one more bruise. If he was lucky, nothing would show and Mum would never know. She always got very pale and very still anytime he came home with obvious signs of fighting. Mum's eyes would dull, would be veiled as she hid her fear and trepidation for her son who could never, ever, give in to the urge to fight back. He could hurt them much too easily. Because she did, always, for as long as he could remember, fear for him. Or maybe, he realized as he got older, maybe she had always just feared him. Sometimes he wasn't sure what the difference was.   
  
But today was different; today was September first. Today was the first time since he could remember that he was going to be among other witches and wizards his own age. He was going to go to Hogwarts.   
  
He hadn't actually even known much about Hogwarts until a year ago, when Dad came home from work with a bit of parchment in his hand, and a tense look on his face. The sort of tense look Dad only really got when it was near the full moon. Remus never needed to check a calendar to know the phase of the moon, but that night he did it anyway - just to be sure. The moon was just past new. He had known that.  
  
And then Mum read the letter and started to cry. She only did that when she was exceptionally tired; normally Mum was very, very skilled at keeping those tears in her eyes. Remus knew she cried all the time, but she cried inside, always pushing her hands about the house busily trying to work herself to death. It was all especially hard for her, Remus was just beginning to understand. He could sense the difference between the two worlds: the one they lived in, and the one they actually belonged to, but were never _ever_ allowed to speak about.   
  
His mother had been born into that other one, the magical one. When Remus was younger, he had imagined his mother as a gentle, beautiful fairy-tale princess. She was still gentle, and she was still beautiful; but now she was more like a backwards version of Cinderella, becoming less princess and less magical as time went on, and she scrubbed yet another fireplace clean with her bare hands. Remus would never tell her, but he knew by now that it was all his fault. Mum loved Dad so much; and Remus sometimes remembered moments from - _before_ \- when he was a very young baby. They had lived in a magical place then, but he couldn't remember where. And there had been odd things: green fires, and wands, and things that flew around, and little elf-people who moved around the house silently helping Mum keep it neat and tidy.   
  
Then he got bit. And sometime after that, for reasons that Remus still wasn't quite sure about but suspected, they left the magic place and moved here, to this little Muggle town. It was near Dad's parents, because Dad's mother had been a Muggle. But the Lupins… Dad's dad and his dad before him and so on, they had always been wizards. Mum and Dad would whisper stories about it, about his grandparents and their grandparents, instead of fairy tales at night. And then they would be very quiet, and Mum would look very longingly at something very far away; Remus knew she wouldn't ever blame him, but it was all his fault after all.   
  
So, when Mum read the letter and started crying, Remus knew it was somehow his fault too. It was from a man - no - a wizard. A wizard who wanted to come meet Remus. A wizard, his parents whispered late at night, when they had forgotten that his wolf ears heard much more than a normal child, a wizard who wanted to accept Remus into _Hogwarts_.  
  
The wizard came; Remus liked him immediately. Things were arranged, just so. And Mum worried so much about it that Remus suspected that she was secretly overjoyed at her ability to mother and bother and fuss details to death. She was also worried about her boy; who could blame her? _Remus_ was worried about her boy! What if he couldn't manage to maintain his classes _and_ keep the wolf subdued? What if someone found out about the wolf? What if, good Merlin, what if _nobody liked him_?  
  
Sitting at the kitchen table, Remus shivered at the thought. But then he reminded himself that he had been alone, and lonely, before. And he had a secret to keep. At the Muggle school he had kept the magic a secret; now, at the magic school he had to keep the wolf a secret. Besides, school was about books and learning and doing your lessons correctly and minding your teachers - not about finding friends or being liked.  
  
But a small hope in the back of his head whispered: _but wouldn't it be lovely if somebody did like you? What if you really could make a friend - just one friend, that's not too much to ask for_ …  
  
Mum and Dad nervously looked at each other and nodded. They rose, pulling the breakfast dishes from the table and piling them in the sink. They were taking the early train into London, and then he was going to take the Hogwarts Express… and go to a real wizarding school…  
  
Suddenly Remus felt too young and too alien to be joining other wizards… _Well_ , he thought swallowing his fears, _here I go_ … 


	4. Kings of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has other plans

"You just find the biggest boys. The smart ones, the ones that are the strongest, and you make friends with them right away. Are you listening to me, son?" The hand threatened to slap out, to secure his undivided attention, so Peter nodded as quickly as possible. He was jumping and wincing nervously, like a mouse huddled in a burrow. His father drove the Muggle car the same way he drove everything: relentlessly.  
  
"Yes." His father said with a tight grip on the steering wheel, "You find them and make friends right away. The smart ones will let you copy their answers - that way you'll stand a chance at passing marks. The strong ones will keep you away from the bullies. You get that, boy? That's the way for you to go."  
  
Peter, out of a well-perfected habit, nodded his head at appropriate moments to keep his father mollified. Inside, however, he was desperately thinking about the coming school year.  
  
_Will I be able to learn enough? Enough to keep Dad happy? Will Mum insist on mailing me a letter every day, like she swore she would?_ Peter winced inwardly at the thought of his Mum. There was nothing he could do, really. He had to go to school now, there was no avoiding that -and she would just have to find a way to survive at home, alone, with Dad. Peter knew that somehow his mother had survived this long, and had managed when he was a baby, too; but she didn't have the evasive skills that Peter had mastered. She didn't have the ability to keep her mouth shut and nod at the appropriate intervals.  
  
_Speaking of which…_ Peter nodded mutely at whatever his father was now expounding about.  
  
He was going to Hogwarts. He was getting out of that dirty little house, and going to a huge castle somewhere else. For the time being, it was enough; his father had celebrated the letter by getting so drunk he miraculously passed out early, instead of after his temper rose. They had been worried that Peter was going to turn out to be a squib. Mum compensated by feeding him all the time. Father compensated by telling him exactly where he belonged in life. But Peter had other plans.  
  
He was going to rise. Somehow, any way that he could; his Father's place might be at the bottom of society. Living with Mum in a squalid hovel. Drunk more often than not. Working some sweaty Muggle-ish job. But that wasn't for Peter. No, he was going to Hogwarts, and from there he was going to get somewhere. He was going to be powerful, and respected. He was going to have friends. The right friends, in the right places. And they were all going to live like princes. Kings of the world. The whole bloody world.  
  
_Well_ … he thought, adding in an extra nod for good measure, _here I go_ …


	5. His Only Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> when Severus Snape was just a boy...

"I swear woman! If I have to shout one more time, I'm going to knock the magic right out of you and that dratted son of yours!" The voice boomed down the hallway. Severus jumped out of bed with quiet efficiency and was quickly washed and dressing. He had been woken up by the first dull _thunk_ , and had achieved full consciousness two blinks later when he heard the sharp _slap_. They were still in their bedroom, but Severus knew that if he failed to anticipate their movements and desires by the time they spilled out into the hallway, he'd be on the receiving end of the _thunks_ and _slaps_ too.  
  
Not that he ever _wanted_ to attract undue attention, but it was especially important that today he get out of the house unmarked by bruises or handprints of any sort. Today was September first; he was going to get out of the house for an entire school year. He was going to Hogwarts today.  
  
As he dressed in his Muggle clothing, Severus listened carefully through the thin, patched-up wall to his father's yelling. If he could discern the cause of the argument, he could easily deduce exactly what would pacify the rumbling man, and swiftly put about pacifying with precision. That was Severus' greatest skill: Pacifying with Precision. He had even come up with the name for the dangerous blood sport all by himself. His mother, of course, didn't know that he had given the activity a name, but after so many years to practice the skill, how could he not? His mother had little talent for it herself, a fact that Severus had ceased to be disappointed by years ago. Sometimes, only sometimes, Severus would feel himself growing angry at her because of this fact; Pacifying with Precision was an easy concept to grasp, a simple strategy to employ, and required nothing but attention to detail and cool logic.  
  
Severus had to keep himself very focused on the task at hand to make sure he didn't get angry at his mother too often. That would make him just like his father, after all, and where would the logic be in that? Whenever he felt angry at her ineptitude, Severus would very carefully think about two things: first, about the way his mother would send him small, desperate smiles of gratitude. It always made Severus feel powerful, and important, to have someone as adult as his own mother dependant on him. The second thought was the broken beginner's potions kit Severus had found in the dustbin behind the Longbottom's home a couple years ago. Severus loved it, even though all the little potion-ingredient packets had already been used. He would sometimes nick flour and brown sugar from the kitchen to pretend he was mixing potions according to the tattered recipe booklet that came with the set. He loved it all the more because it was a _wizarding_ plaything, just the sort of thing a proper young wizard ought to have. It was his favorite toy.  
  
It was his only toy.  
  
In the hallway, his mother whimpered. Severus tied of the laces on his trainers and straightened up just as his door flew opened. His father's furious eyes darted around the room, but could not immediately find anything to yell about. Severus kept his room that way on purpose. He had already surmised that the cause of the yelling was that Mum had reminded Father that they would need to take Severus to the Hogwart's Express today. Severus also surmised that Father was yelling because Hogwarts annoyed him. He hadn't gone to Hogwarts, because he was a Squib. Father was a Squib from a long line of Squibs which, as far as Severus was concerned, meant that Father was as Muggle as they come. Mum's family had gone to Hogwarts, all of them; but Mum had left before she was finished in order to have the baby. That was the other reason that Father didn't like to think about Hogwarts, because it reminded them all of the baby. The boy that didn't live.  
  
They had told Mum she would never have a baby that would survive. And they had also told her that it wasn't her fault at all. But then, a few years later, Mum had given birth to Severus, and he had lived. Then they said that Mum would not have any other children after that, and she had been sick for a while. Severus generally assumed that was why his father didn't care much for him, and would often give him long, snide glares from across the kitchen table.  
  
His father moved menacingly into the room, mind already working out some excuse to yell at Severus as well. It was time for some expert-level Pacify with Precision.  
  
"I'm ready to go, sir." Severus said, his eyes looking blankly at the area around Father's right shoulder. That was the safest place to look: no eye contact to set off the man, but also a good view of his muscles, a few seconds' warning before he moved to slap or hit. Severus carefully made sure that the rest of his body was limp, giving the impression that Severus himself was passive and feeble.  
  
"Mum needn't take me. I could go alone, sir." Severus silently congratulated himself on the brilliance of the plan. He was momentarily sorry that it left his mother as a sacrifice to the lumbering giant, but he didn't have time to waste on something like remorse. He was leaving today, getting out. If his mother wanted out, she would have to do it on her own day, not his.  
  
His father snorted. "You think you can find your way to London and to that ruddy train all by yourself?" He mocked darkly. "You think you're so smart?" His voice began to amplify in the suddenly still house.  
  
_Merlin, I didn't think about that angle_ … Severus thought quickly through his options. It was time for a very skillfully manipulated round of dragon-and-kneazle.  
  
"No, sir." He said, widening his eyes in what he hoped would seem like incredulousness mixed with adoration. "It's only just that _Mum_ isn't as smart as you, and I know that _you_ can't take me… so maybe I ought to just go myself. I couldn't bother you to leave work today, you're much too _important_!" Severus took an extra moment to think about his potion kit. He felt greasy and sick inside at the foul words he was saying.

 _It's only just that Mum is a sniveling mess, and you are a brute, and maybe I can do much better on my own_ , he thought darkly keeping his face and eyes carefully deferential. Someday he would be free of simpering fools, and today was an important step in that process. Severus had decided that fact the day his letter had arrived.  
  
His father took the bait. Puffed up, he muttered savagely, "That's right. I'm too busy to bother with coddling you like a baby. And if you think I'm going to make a fuss about you going to _that school_ like your Mother, you've got another thing coming."  
  
He strode off down the hall to his bedroom muttering something about _no son of mine would have gone to that place; my son would get a real job already, like a real man. No son of mine would be such a nancy-fancy-pants…_  
  
For once, Severus didn't care what his father was saying darkly about him or his mother. For once, Severus allowed himself a tight-lipped smile before he pulled his trunk resolutely toward the front door. For once, Severus allowed himself a small tingle of excitement, and even relief.  
  
_Well_ , he thought soaked with sweat and ambition, _here I go._


	6. Brave New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you ever think about what could have been? Or what could yet still be... ?

The train pulled into the station with a mournful grinding of breaks and steam. Severus looked through his pale reflection in the grimy window to the throngs of people moving about the station. He carefully arranged his face into a cool mask of confidence and ignored the growing turmoil. _What if I can't find Platform 9 ¾_? he wondered vaguely, _What if they've changed things since Mum was here?_

But Severus knew fretting wouldn't help - he just had to get up and find out for himself. Pressing his lips together in quiet concentration, he stood up to find his trunk. All around him Muggles streamed toward their own destinations, a few glancing at him with thinly veiled curiosity or contempt-filled sneers. He knew that his patched and moldy-looking clothing was all wrong - and that he was all alone when normal Muggle parents (or wizarding parents for that matter) wouldn't allow a boy so young to travel alone. Severus hid both his embarrassment and his sneer; too many of the Muggles reminded him of his father. _I am, after all, an expert in this sort of game,_ he thought fiercely as he pushed his trolley down the walk between platforms 9 and 10.

Then he saw a face that stood out from the crowd. A boy, his own age, with tumbling light brown hair and pale skin. His face was the same sort of cool mask Severus knew very well. But his eyes - a startling sort of amber hazel color - when they locked with his flickered with recognition. Both were masking their nervousness and their excitement… and their desperation.

Severus wasn't sure what they might have in common other than that one shared gaze. The other boy was obviously more comfortable with the Muggles around him. His clothes looked worn as well, but not shabby or out-of-date like Severus' were. And his parents were huddled next to him. _Probably adoring and excited to be sending their boy off to school_ , Severus allowed himself one bitter thought. He relished in it for one whole moment before firmly tucking it away, and steeling his resolve. With a deep breath he pushed his trolley more determinedly toward the boy.

Severus was impressed; under his careful scrutiny he saw nervousness, trepidation, elation, and even fear wrestling for position in the boy's eyes - but his face never shifted and never displayed so much as a shadow of any of the emotions.

Then they were staring at each other, only an arm's length apart.

"Hello." The boy began, before Severus could even inhale. "First year at Hogwarts?"

Severus nodded. "Severus Snape." He awkwardly held out his hand, not really sure what actual human touch felt like anymore. And yet something about the boy before him seemed to echo that feeling exactly. With a mirrored awkwardness, the boy grasped his hand; both lingered gratefully in the touch of skin as the boy replied,

"Remus Lupin."

Neither allowed himself the luxury of a smile - it was too soon, too risky, for that sort of thing. But secretly, both boys allowed a spark of recognition to pass between them, as if saying, _oh yes - I know exactly what you're thinking; believe me, I know._

As their hands pulled apart, Remus was saying, "…and this is my Mum and my Dad."

And his mother seemed to swoop in desperately: "Severus Snape? As in the old Snape family of Snape Green, in Lancashire? My family used to know your mother's family: Eileen and I went to school together, before she -er -had to leave. And the Longbottoms, as well. Augusta Longbottom was a few years older than us. Are the Longbottoms still in Lancashire too?"

Severus' lips pulled tight, suppressing a grimace of shame at the mention of his family. He nodded briefly, and noticed that Mrs. Lupin was almost nervously trying to put herself between Severus and Remus. Perhaps this boy's desperation was just like his own: fueled by the need to get out from the shadow of problematic parentage. Mr. Lupin remained silent, tensely standing next to his son as if torn between griping him firmly and holding him back, or crying in relief. Just as Severus had made up his mind that he wanted to know much, much more about Remus Lupin, Mrs. Lupin clucked in a motherly way and said,

"All by yourself? Do you know how to get to the Platform all right?"

Severus nodded briefly and replied, "I do believe so."

Undaunted, Mrs. Lupin continued warmly fussing, "Just walk right through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 - that one right over there. Don't be nervous about it."

Severus gave her a placating look, and beyond her shoulder Remus shot him an apologetic glance. The corner of his mouth twitched, as suddenly Severus realized that he was sharing an unspoken joke with Remus. It was, perhaps, the most curious feeling Severus had ever permitted himself to feel.

"Why don't you go ahead, Severus," Mrs. Lupin continued, "We'll just be saying goodbye to Remus and then we'll send him along after you."

Remus shot Severus another apologetic look, desperately worried that Severus would think that his mother was snubbing him. But Severus' eyes were still fixed on Remus, and without moving they briefly seemed to nod at each other. Then Severus was gone; followed through the wall by a mousy-looking blonde boy whose father had just dropped him off at the main station entrance.

When Remus' attention returned to his mother, he found her looking absolutely horrified and self-deprecating.

"Oh, Remus, lamb, I'm so sorry!" she began, "I shouldn't have said that I knew his mother or the Longbottoms like that. If he asks, they could recognize me - and then," her face grew horribly pale and drawn, "-and then, what if one of them remembers hearing about what happened to you, and…"

"We probably shouldn't go with you onto the platform." His father interjected, placing a firm hand on his mother's shoulder. "We can't risk it. We won't ruin this chance for you."

Remus nodded. He had expected as much, but why -oh Merlin why- did they have to draw this out so much? Submitting to his mother's worried hugs and smothering kisses, Remus said goodbye to his parents. His father hugged him surprisingly closely, whispering in his ear " _send us an owl immediately if there are any problems with … the moon_.

And then they were gone, almost as if fleeing for their lives. Remus took a breath and briefly shut his eyes as he bravely walked through the magical barrier and into his new world.


	7. The Black Heir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're gonna be best friends for life...

"Jamie! Watch out for that car!" his father said sharply, as James perched precariously on one foot on the edge of the sidewalk. The Muggle traffic outside the station was a lot worse than the small bit of cars and bicycles in the Muggle village nearest to Godric's Hollow. Much to James' delight, they had taken the London underground from the Leaky Cauldron to the station. He was expressing his adolescent excitement by trying to get himself killed on the London sidewalk.

"Stay here with your Mum while I go get a trolley for your trunk." His father said in a mock-stern tone of voice, but his eyes were twinkling. He disappeared in the crowd of Muggles moving in and out of the station. Then James heard his mother suck in a strangled sort of breath. He looked up curiously, following her gaze to where a sleek, black fancy Muggle car had pulled up to the main entrance. The driver and another uniformed man got out and opened the other doors for the passengers. 

James stood still in astonishment. This had to be a wizarding family, there was no doubt from the slightly robe-ish look of their clothing, but to be employing servants to do Muggle things like drive cars, they must be one of the rich pureblood families. When the first passenger got out, James was confirmed: it was the Malfoys. 

Only the Malfoys had such white-blond hair. A man had stepped out of the car, followed by a boy older than James. Both had the signature Malfoy hair; both had the signature Malfoy frigid disdain; both were wearing richly tailored outfits of black. The father was carrying an ebony cane with a silver serpent twisted around the length of the rod. From the other side of the car, the boy's mother had emerged. She swept the area with a look of contempt as she swept her black hair away from her narrow face. As she moved from the side of the car to join her husband, her eyes flicked coldly at James and his mother. She sniffed aloofly and gazed icily at his mum for a moment, then pointedly turned her back on them.

James felt his face flush darkly, but his mother placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

"James…" she said quietly, "It's not your problem if _some_ wizards don't like you because your father and I don't spend our Galleons the way they do." Her voice was muted, but her tone was deadly-cold. James shivered as a second car arrived. Just like the first, it emptied its passengers at the station entrance. They greeted the Malfoys with a gratuitous display of hauteur.

"The younger Black and his daughters." His mother confirmed, keeping her hand on James' shoulder. Two girls had exited the car and joined their parents mingling with the Malfoys.

"The tall one, with the auburn hair is Andromeda." His mother murmured, "She's a fifth year, same age as the Malfoy heir. The blonde is Narcissa, the youngest Black daughter, a fourth year; I hear she's dating Lucius Malfoy. It was to be expected."

To James, it looked absurdly as if the two families were either holding a grand impromptu reunion on the steps of the Muggle street, or holding royal court - he couldn't decide which. Lucius Malfoy, the Malfoy heir, nodded coolly to Narcissa Black, who lowered her eyes and smiled coyly at him while hanging on her daddy's arm.

James' father returned with a trolley just as a third car pulled up.

"Sorry that took so long," he said lovingly to James' mother, "I could have sworn that I saw the Lupins leaving just as I was getting the trolley out; I haven't heard anything of their family for years - but they had already left by the time I had caught up." He ended his story with a smile and a _what can you do_ shrug. James' mom nodded at him, and then tilted her head in the direction of the expensive cars and the darkly dressed aristocrats.

"Ah." He replied, patting James absent-mindedly on the shoulder that was not already occupied by his Mum's hand. "Yes. Well, it was to be expected… The Malfoy heir is, what, fourth or fifth year now? And - ahhh there he is- the Black heir is starting at Hogwarts this year too."

And for a brief moment the entire Potter family stood staring as the raven-haired boy tumbled out of the newly arrived car. His parents were almost ignoring him, already deeply engaged in discussion with the other Blacks and the Malfoys. James couldn't help but grin as the other eleven-year-old dragged his hand nervously through his hair. He was the only one wearing a color other than silver; his shirt was sapphire blue.

James liked him immediately.

Then James was busy helping his father put his trunk on the trolley. As they neared the group of wizards and witches, James heard a haughty velvety voice say, "Sirius, you mind your cousins now. They'll take you the rest of the way… Well, Abraxas, what say we persuade the drivers to take us to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink while we let the ladies do a bit of shopping? We can all Apparate out of this filthy city after luncheon in Diagon Alley rather than return to our homes by way of _these_ crude machines."

At that point, James had reached the large entrance to the station. His father pulled open the door for James to push the trolley through, but James was cut off by a sweeping flurry of black fabrics and a snobbish sniff. Lucius Malfoy swept past, barely sparing a glance at James' dad as if it were naturally the grown wizard's duty to properly hold the door for them. Lucius was followed closely by Narcissa, and then her older sister Andromeda looking vaguely apologetic.

Then the last dark haired head turned slightly as he passed James. Their eyes locked for one second, brown staring at surprisingly deep grey. _I know_ , the grey eyes said, _aren't they just obnoxious? But watch this_ …

And as the boy swept past in outward imitation of his cousins, he raised a small black straw to his mouth and shot a perfect spitball right into Narcissa Black's long blonde hair.


	8. House and Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Hogwarts.... and here we go....

Remus unpacked his trunk quietly. He was not disappointed - hardly, he was more like _elated_ \- but he was also nervous once again. The train ride, the Sorting, the feast all seemed like a confusing blur of adrenaline and apprehension. He could even swear that Dumbledore had winked at him when he had entered the Great Hall with the rest of the fidgeting first years. But Remus was sad, too. He had been Sorted into Gryffindor; his parents would be so pleased. But Severus - the boy from the station - had been later Sorted into Slytherin. It didn't take Lycanthropic senses to overhear what the Gryffindors thought about the Slytherins.

"Hi. I'm Peter Pettigrew." A voice at his elbow made Remus jump back nervously. It was the blonde mousy boy who had unpacked his things at the bed next to his.

"Remus Lupin." Remus replied, but neither boy held out his hand. Remus was beginning to realize just how oddly formal, and yet strangely personal, his meeting with Severus had been. No one else had actually shook hands, not with him or anyone else, that day - even though they were all meeting each other again from the summer holidays, or for the first time. Remus also realized that he had been unconsciously comparing everyone to Severus all day long; and, so far, no one had measured up.

"Can you believe it!" a voice ranted loudly on the dormitory stairs outside their door, "Sirius _Black_ \- Sorted into Gryffindor! There must be some mistake."

"Shut your trap, Podmore, he'll hear you!"

"I don't care if I hurt the ickle-first-year's feelings." The first voice retorted hotly.

"Yes, but you'll care when he goes crying to his cousins in Slytherin. You _know_ they're just dying to repay you…"

"Those slimy gits, like to see 'em try…" and the voices trailed off as they moved further up the stairs.

"Errrm." Peter shot Remus a shy look. Remus was very quiet, staring busily at the things in his trunk left to unpack.

"Hey, Peter…" he said finally, "what do you know about Slytherin?"

Peter seemed to grow pale and he nodded his head out of nervous habit.

"Not much, really." He fumbled around for something to say to impress the other boy, "They're all very ambitious. And they live near the dungeons - I over heard a fourth year saying so. And they say that Salazar Slytherin was a _Parselmouth_. But I don't know why Gryffindors hate Slytherins so much."

"I have a …friend… who was put in Slytherin tonight." Remus admitted softly, before he could stop himself. Peter's eyes grew wide- almost hungry looking-and he fidgeted nervously for a moment. Then he leaned in and said quietly,

"I was almost put in Slytherin tonight."

Remus blinked at him. Peter plopped down on the floor and leaned back against Lupin's bed.

"Back on Platform 9 ¾ this morning," he began in a somewhat squeaky voice, "I met this chap. Right weird, I say- greasy Muggle clothes and, I dunno, pale skin."

Remus cocked his head, wondering if Peter was talking about Severus.

"Anyway. We were standing there together because we were both watching a fifth year prefect. He was so… so…" Peter gestured uselessly. But Remus figured Peter probably meant old, mature, responsible, commanding, powerful, cool, with-it, and generally _cool_. "We watched him walk about, telling people how to do things. He was really smart. And had expensive clothing. And everyone got out of his way. And he had this girl who was obviously in love with him or something, because she followed him around.

At first, I was thinking that I wanted to be just like him someday. And I realized the boy next to me was thinking the same thing. And then…" Peter paused to shudder, "It made me think of my father."

Remus raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Both of 'em - the chap and the prefect - were so cold, so distant. Mean, I figure; just plain old mean prats, really. My dad is like that, he only outright brawls when he's sauced; so normally he's just… well… he always has to be right about everything.

Turns out the prefect was in Slytherin. So when the Sorting Hat said to me that maybe I would meet my goals in Slytherin House, I said no thank you. I mean, I didn't get away from my father just to have a prefect just like him."

"So why Gryffindor instead?" Remus asked.

"Well," Peter said nervously, "Sirius Black."

Remus raised his eyebrows at the second mention of the enigmatic Mr. Black. _Intriguing that the same boy can cause Gryffindors disgust, and also cause others to want to be Gryffindors to be with him._

"You see," Peter explained flushing a little, "I do want to be friends with important people. And you don't get more important than the Malfoys or the Blacks. But Slytherin is overrun with both of those; I'd just be a hanger-on. Probably get excluded from everything they did, or asked to serve their tea like a house-elf or something. But Sirius Black is our age, and I heard him get put into Gryffindor instead of with the rest in Slytherin. I thought maybe if I was in Gryffindor too, I could be his friend."

 

* * *

 

Down in the common room, James Potter was losing spectacularly at gobstones to a second year when he felt a presence beside him; and the object of Peter's confessions said in a merry voice,

"Hey. Potter was it?"

James looked up to see Sirius Black's grey eyes twinkling at him knowingly for the second time that day.

"Yeah. James Potter."

The Black heir stuck out his hand as if he and James were about to exchange their Secret Handshake. Suddenly James felt pretty sure that they _ought_ to have a Secret Handshake, if they didn't have one already. He grinned, grasped the offered hand, and cheerfully ignored the fact that he had just lost the gobstones game.

"I'm Sirius Black." Sirius said.

"No offense, mate, but _duh_." James replied. To his credit, Sirius' eyes only darkened for a half a second.

"My family precedes me again." He said with an exaggerated grimace.

"Speaking of your family…" James said with a knowing roll of his eyes, "what are they going to say when they hear you've been Sorted into Gryffindor?"

"Merlin, James! Please don't remind me… Honestly, though, the silent treatment is very much their style."

James liked the way Sirius said _their_ as if he knew all about _them_ , but just didn't understand them at all.

"I'm glad you're in Gryffindor." James said laughing, "That was bloody brilliant what you did -"

" -this morning at the train station." Sirius ended with a lopsided grin. "Yeah - I was waiting all summer to do that to Narcissa."

They laughed loudly as they walked together up toward their new dorm.

"Sirius -"

"Yeah, Jamie?"

"This is going to be a great year." They locked eyes briefly, grinning like idiots.

"Well," Sirius said, grasping the dorm door handle, "Here we go!" And together they walked in to meet their other dorm-mates. 


End file.
